Flowery Ideas
by Will.Hell.Minna.-Sophia Isobel
Summary: Hermione has been getting flowers daily. She she didn't know who was sending it. But whoever it she, she was going to find out and give him a piece of her mind. But what happens when she finds out who it really is? Will she give him more than her mind?


Written for **Filch's List of Prompts**

Prompt for July 14th- "**Idea**"

Characters: **Hermione G. And Ron W.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER. DON'T SUE.**

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><p>"<strong>Flowery Ideas<strong>**"**

It all started on a rainy October morning.

It was only eight in the morning and Hermione already knew it was going to be a bad day.

She had quite liked rainy days before she started working in Hogwarts, but experience had taught her that rain and restless kids were never a good combination. When they couldn't be let out for quidditch practice or some sort of physical exercise, the kids tuned to be almost unmanageable.

It had been raining non-stop for four days and Hermione had had her hopes of it letting out by Friday. A vain hope, as it turned out.

She was already thinking about what she was going to do to keep the kids focused on the lesson and entertained enough to avoid a riot, when she noticed there was something completely out of place on top of her desk.

She looked around, her brow creasing in a frown. There was nothing in the classroom that could tell her where it had come from or what was it doing there. And it looked harmless enough.

It was strange.

With a shrug, Hermione picked up the lone red flower and after looking at it for a second, put it inside her top drawer.

And then promptly forgot about it.

Or would have done, except there was another one waiting for her on Monday.

This time it was a different one, white and quite delicate looking. Hermione didn't know much about flowers, their language being something she didn't cover in her classes, but it struck her as a strange way to get her attention. She put it inside the drawer, gently touching the first one with her fingers before the noise from the corridor told her the kids were about to arrive.

She thought no more of them, though she wasn't exactly surprised to see another one the next day.

And the following one.

And the following.

Each day there was a different flower on top of her desk. For a prank it was an elaborate one, which disqualified her students and most of the other teachers she knew as the pranksters. If it was a seduction though-nah, it couldn't be a seduction.

It was no secret in Hogwarts that she carried a torch, and had done for quite some time already, for Ron. It was the stuff of legends, actually. She had been saved, a long time ago when she was in danger, by Ron.

That was almost twenty years ago, and though she was a bit embarrassed remembering, her feelings had changed but little since then.

She had become a bit more adept at hiding them though.

She had not married Ron, the mere idea now made her shake her head in wonderment, though they had managed to establish a long friendship thanks to Harry. They enjoyed each other's company and Hermione had come to believe that was good enough, not perfect, but good nonetheless.

But no, she would not believe Ron was the one behind the flowers.

The fact remained, though, that someone sent her flowers and Hermione had no idea who. Suddenly, everyone in Hogwarts was a possible suspect.

She was going to find out, if only to reject the person properly if they were serious.

Hermione knew how it was being in love with someone unattainable, and didn't want anyone else going through it.

A week later she wasn't closer to finding out the culprit.

Her traps had failed, and the few inquiries she made around Hogsmeade unveiled nothing. Two things were clear, though. Whoever it was, was skilled and discreet. That person had managed to get past Hermione's traps without springing them or getting caught. He had also done it without anyone being the wiser.

She was at her wits end, which explained why she had resorted to _that_. If her traps and questions yielded no answer, maybe the flowers would.

"I have a very good book about the language of flowers, Hermione." Neville said with a smile after Hermione explained what she needed. "I lent it to Ron last month, but he's probably finished with it. Do you want me to ask him to give it to you?"

Hermione smiled, shaking her head. "Don't worry, I'll ask him myself." She thanked him and left the library, heading to Ron's quarters.

Had it been anyone else, Hermione would have immediate suspected them. Ron though, he had not expressed any interest in a relationship with Hermione before, and she had to know how Hermione felt about him. He also wasn't the kind of person who would play a cruel joke like that, so he probably had a legitimate reason to have that book.

"Ron," Hermione said when she opened the door to his quarters, staring at him with a lazy smile. "I need Neville's book for some research, are you done with it?"

"Yo, Hermione," Ron greeted her taking a step back and allowing her into his room. Ron was wearing nothing but a pair of black pants, his hair in complete disarray and a faint pillow mark on his face. It was almost noon and the lazy git had been _sleeping_. Hermione felt her mouth drying at the sight.

"Come in while I look for it. I can't remember where I put it." Ron told her.

He disappeared from view, leaving Hermione in the middle of his living room. She dropped on the couch and looked around, marvelling at how clean and organized everything was in Ron's place. Every time she was there, she expected to see some of the confusing and lazy personality the flying coach exhibited outside to show in his surroundings, and every time she was disappointed.

"What do you need it for?" Ron's voice reached her from the bedroom, the sound of things being moved around and rustling of papers clearly heard. If she'd had any doubt before, they were cleared once and for all. Ron really had no idea where the book was.

"Nothing serious," Hermione said, surprised to hear the disappointment she was _not_ feeling in his voice. "I can't find the person who's sending me flowers, so I'm going to try to decipher the message."

Ron's head appeared around the door to his bedroom. "Flowers?"

Oh. She hadn't told Ron. She had not seen him for a fortnight.

"Right, I didn't mention it," she said with a smile. "I've been getting flowers. _Daily._ It's annoying not knowing who sends them."

Ron stepped out of the bedroom. "You've got a secret admirer? And you've got no idea who it is?" His tone was teasing but there was something in his eyes belying the tone. Hermione frowned.

"It might be a prank," she said, shrugging.

Ron took the seat next to her in the couch, a heavy tome in his hand. "Which flowers have you received?" he said opening the book, his voice thick with barely contained curiosity.

For a moment Hermione considered just grabbing the book and leaving Ron there, if there was someone she didn't want to share this task with, it was Ron. But they were _friends_, even if Hermione would have liked to be more.

"The first one was a red tulip," she finally said.

Ron looked at her. "It's not a prank, Hermione. Red tulip means _a declaration of love_," he said seriously. "A good choice to begin a courtship." He pointed at the open page in the book and Hermione looked down, a picture of the flower and a brief description confirming Ron's words.

She nodded sadly. She'd have preferred it if it was a prank.

"The next one was a bellflower," she said.

"Thinking of you," Ron said immediately, his hands turning the pages and one of his long fingers pointing at the right one when he found it.

"Red daisy," Hermione said, looking up at Ron, her brow furrowing in thought.

It wasn't unlikely that Ron knew the meaning of the flowers, what with being lazy and all, but he had answered before looking at the page, and his fingers and found the page almost without looking at the book.

"Beauty unknown to possessor," Ron recited, looking at Hermione.

"Star of Bethlehem," Hermione continued, the first tendrils of suspicion sneaking into her voice and posture when the answer came without checking the book again.

"Hope."

"Heliotrope," she said, feeling the breath stuck to her throat, her eyes never leaving Ron's.

"Devotion."

"Forget-me-not."

"True love."

"Cora-"

"Desire, passion," Ron said before she had the chance to finish her sentence, confirming her worst suspicions.

She was on her feet in an instant, the blood rushing through her veins. She leaned forward, her eyes narrowed, until her face was scant inches from Ron's. "You think this is funny, Ron?" she said, her voice barely a whisper, her fists clenched at her sides. "It was you, all the time it was you. And you said it wasn't a prank?"

"It's not a prank, Hermione, it's a courtship," Ron said, his eye narrowing as well at Hermione's tone.

"A courtship!" Hermione snorted, taking a step back and glaring at him. Ron glared right back. "Why would you court _me_?" Everyone in Hogwarts knew about her feelings for Ron, if Ron wanted something with her, he just had to ask.

He had not asked in all the time they had been friends.

Ron stood up, letting the book fall to his feet, and took a step toward Hermione. "Because I've been dropping hints and hitting on you for months, and you didn't respond though you claim to be in love with me! Or did you think I invite everyone to my house? Let them see me like this?" Hermione blinked at those words, stunned. "Bugger this, obviously subtlety is lost on you!"

Any response Hermione thought to make was lost the instant Ron tugged her down and kissed her. She froze, the feel of those lips on her was something she had never dared imagine she'd feel. And then she reacted, opening her mouth and responding to the kiss with years of pent up longing and hope.

"I never thought-" she said, breathless, when they came up for air. She shook her head, still too stunned to think clearly. "Why now? Why after so many years?"

Ron smiled at her. "I knew about you and your feelings, but I didn't know you and you didn't know me," he said simply, his lips brushing against Hermione's.

"And then?" Hermione exhaled, barely a whisper.

"Then we got to know each other."

This time it was Hermione who closed the distance, claiming Ron's lips and pushing him backwards until they fell on the couch. "Let's know each other better."

Many days passed, it was raining again, but Hermione didn't care. Not with the way her body ached pleasantly and she still had the taste of Ron's mouth in her.

She picked the blue rose placed on top of her desk and smiled.

_Attaining the impossible._

It was going to be a good day.

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><p><strong>AN: Read and Review. Constructive Criticisms are very welcomed. ^_^**


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